Blood Tears Risorgimento
by AngieRouge
Summary: They had different lives but their dreams were the same, they were brothers. Mainly about the Italy brothers but also contains Austria/Hungary, Spain/Romano, HRE/N.Italy. More characters might show up.
1. A reason to live

**This is the first chapter of my first non-oneshot story, so please be nice. I like triple chocolate chip cookies, in case you want to give me something out of pity XD Anyway, I suggest you don't read this if you don't like remembering that behind Hetalia there's history and that history is sad. Words in _italics _are either thoughts or words from different languages. Let me know if I made any grammar mistakes and I'll change them. Well, I think I ran out of boring stuff to say so I'll just leave you to the fanfic, enjoy!**

**

* * *

**

A cold breeze timidly blew through the silent city. It danced through the leaves of the trees, but was not enough to make them rustle. It twirled over the dark red puddles that here and there stained the streets, but was not enough to produce ripples. It reached a brunette boy and played with his trembling hair curl, but was not enough to dry the tears on his cheeks.

March 1848

Flawless notes from Chopin's Ballade no. 1 filled the mansion's semi dark corridors. Elizaveta Héderváry silently stood glancing at the shoulders of the pianist she had always been so fond of. Each single movement of those elegant shoulders would drag her into a whirlpool of emotions. So would his amethyst eyes, but she was not able to see them now. She smiled softly as she thought of them and approached to her lover.

"You have been sitting here for quite a while _drága_" she said as she laid her head on his shoulder and gently entangled their hands together making the music stop.

"Are you not feeling satisfied?" At the sound of her delicate voice Roderich Edelstein closed his eyes and a slight sigh of relief left his lips. That was music for him. But of course he wouldn't say it, not with words.

"N-no, _es geht mir gut_. It's just that..."

"It's just that you don't know how to deal with him anymore. I can read you like an open book mister!" she said while caressing his pale cheek.

The man's expression suddenly became sullen, his gaze got lost into the piano score that laid in front of him.

"He has been causing me problems lately... Like if things weren't already difficult enough"

Hearing the Austrian actually talk about his worries was something incredibly rare so Elizaveta wisely decided not to interrupt him.

"He suddenly wants this and that. His abhorrent whinings won't stop. He refuses to follow orders! Just like the brat under Spain's custody. If this goes on I will have to give him a harsh punishme-"

"Now don't say so, there's no need to, _babája vkinek_" said the emerald eyed woman gently pressing a finger on her lover's lips.

"He's not a kid anymore, it's normal that he wishes to be treated like a grow up. Also you might" she particularly stressed this word "be damanding a bit too much from him. Try rewarding him for once and things will surely change"

"I don't know Liz, I think..." but a graceful finger interrupted him once again.

"Roderich Edelstein. Do not think." were Elizaveta's last words before their lips sealed with a kiss.

* * *

The silence of the night was suddenly shattered by the sound of breaking glass.

"You bastard! You can't even imagine how much I hate myself for loving you... how much it hurts"

Lovino Vargas sat on the floor, his back against the cold wall. His clenched fist, now covered in warm blood, laid on the photo frame he had just crushed.

"Damn it!"

Transparent drops streamed down his cheeks while red stains covered the tanned faces of the two men in the picture. Their smile soon disappeared behind the dark liquid.

Through the flowing tears Lovino glanced at the radiant eyes that kept staring at him from the photo. Intense green. The picture was black and white and yet he remembered very well that colour. Oh how much he loved those eyes, how much he loved the features of their owner... his lips, his smile. He couldn't help loving that smile. Spain's smile was brighter than the stars in the sky, warmer than sunlight. But Spain sometimes would go insane, Spain would lose control... and that smile, that bright and warm smile, would mean pain and suffering for Romano's people. That smile would accompany blood and death. Lovino couldn't help hating that smile.

"Somebody. Please. Rip my miserable heart out!" the Italian yelled to the silent night. The house was empty, Spain had left to run some errands. Romano was alone. No answer came back to him.

"Perhaps it would be less painful... This... this thing can't even be called a heart anymore!" his voice broke in sobs "It's split in two. You split it up Antonio... you are the cause of all of this. Yet I love you bastard and I should be damned for that. My peole are dying because of you and all I can do is... loving you! I should die! Yes, my heart should stop beating... T-that's what I deserve" his fist hit the shattered glass once more.

"Yet I can't abandone my people, they already suffered enough because of my weakness... No, I won't leave them alone. I'll live as a nation. I'll pay for my errors." he tried to hold back the sobs, failing.

"I hate you Spain. Soon you'll see. Soon that smile of yours will fade away... My people will stop dying. I promise."

_I love you Spain_ the voice of a kid said inside of him.

* * *

_"Good bye Italy. When the war is over I'll come to see you for sure."_

_"I'll wait... I'll be waiting"_

Two hundred and thirty years had passed. And he had waited.

Truth had always been there, silent and merciless, to remember him that Holy Roman Empire... was gone. Yes, he knew that. Deep insiede of him he knew that.

Part of his heart was meant to remain buried far away, in an unknown battlefield, along with that young black cloaked boy. Forever.

He was very aware of that yet he needed a reason to live. Feliciano Vargas needed to wait. That's what he had done for the past two hundred and thirty years.

He would wake up in the morning and do the chores Austria demanded from him. Back in his childhood Holy Roman Empire enjoyed peeking at him while he did so. Thus Italy kept doing the chores. When he had spare time he would paint. The subject was always the same, the blue eyed boy wrapped in a dark cloak. Italy didn't want to forget, not him.

Each sunset he would search the horizon looking for the shadow of a cloak shaking in the wind. Each night he would wonder if stars could be seen where his lover rested. Two hundred and thirty years had passed.

The exhaust brunette entered his bedroom, hiding a white envelope under his shirt. Lately, among the many prohibitions, Austria had forbidden him to meet or even contact via letter his older brother. Luckily Hungary, who couldn't stand the shadow of sorrow in those chocolate brown eyes, secretly took care of the letter exchange between the two brothers.

Feliciano locked the door, gave a last look at the stars before closing the curtain and threw himself on the bed. As he opened the letter he thought of the last time he had seen his brother, months before. His big brother looked frail and tired, and he was thin, terrifyingly thin. Veneziano couldn't help worrying for him, yet he didn't know how to help him. Actually he didn't even know his brother very well or what had been happening to him. He just knew he was his "_Fratello_", he tenderly whispered that word before opening the desperately awaited letter.

Dear brother,

I hope I can still consider you that. I'm afraid after all this time you might not even remember my smile. Do I even remember it? _Fratello_ I stopped smiling the day he took you away from me. I used to smile before that day, you know that. He knew that. He whom deliberately forgot about me.

I can't hate _nonno_ though. All he did was deciding to save a life, yours Feliciano. You were extremely young, I was slightly older, you needed protection, I ... I could be sacrificed. That's only natural, I can't blame him for that. I never could. But I did need someone to blame, someone to hate with all my soul... that someone was me.

I wanted to hurt myself. That's what I did. When he grabbed your hand to take you far away I didn't oppose, I didn't make a move to stop him, I didn't say good bye. I turned my back on you, so that you would hate me... so that my little brother wouldn't have to see my tears.

I have never smiled after that day Feliciano. There was no reason to, you wouldn't have seen it.

Then came Spain. The bastard gave me life, a new life. Patched up and fragile, but it was life. However I soon found out the thing I called life was just death behind a mask. Everyday, in this forgotten land, mothers can be heard crying out their sons' name. Those children won't answer, they never will... hunger has killed them. But Spain keeps smiling. Soldiers, his soldiers, touch those women, they say they wanto to console them... monsters. But Spain turns his head away. Men have nothing left but humiliation and the wish to die. But Spain keeps singing. He gave me life, he gave me death.

I, as a nation, can't die. I think I could fade if I wanted, but those mothers' cries wouldn't. I realised the only thing I can do is trying to save my people, even if that means sacrificing my feelings... again.

I have been thinking about this for a long time and now I'm convinced. Although it might hurt, with this decision I didn't give up on life. I actually found a new reason to live and I want you, _fratello mio_, to be part of it.

Feliciano, will you join your big brother? That smile, the smile I held back for centuries, is still waiting for you.

Yours,

Lovino

Feliciano lifted the letter to his nose trying to catch even just the shadow of his brother's scent and then pressed it to his lips. Warm tears wet them.

"_Fratello_. I promise I will earn that smile".

He then sat at his desk and wrote down a message:

To Austria

_"To Holy Roman Empire"_

I'm leaving

_"and whatever will happen"_

I'll fight

_"I'll wait"_

for my brother

_"for you, my lover"_

Farewell,

Veneziano

* * *

**Hahaha I couldn't help burst out laughing when Veneziano wrote "I'll fight", that's so not him, but apparently he did for once, I guess something strange was in his pasta XD Anyway thank you for reading 'till here, I admire you if you did, really! I don't know if I should continue this, I think it turned out to be somewhat of a sleeping drug so please let me know what you think, reviews (especially constructive criticism) are most appreciated.**

**Translations**

**Drága = darling (Hungarian)**

**Es geht mir gut = I am fine (German)**

**Babája vkinek = sweetheart (Hungarian)**

**Fratello mio = my brother (Italian)**

**Nonno = grandpa (Italian)**


	2. Lullaby

**Here's the second chapter my fellow unfortunate readers! I really had no better way to waste my time so I ended up posting this on here... to waste your time too~**

**o0o0o  
**

He stood silent as his eyes followed his troops, the efficient killing machine that was now directed towards south. Finally the last row of men disappeared in the abyss of fog.

Long, slender fingers pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

"Be prepared, what you asked for is coming... Do not cry Italy."

* * *

"Lovi~! Boss Spain is back!" the young man announced gleefully as he squeezed his eyes shut preparing for the stream of insults that would have followed that sentence.

Silence. No curses. No objects came flying at him. The smile that had brightend the Spaniard's tired face slowly died, like the slight echo of his words, replaced by the deathly quiteness of the house.

Now that the smile was gone all that was left were dark shadows under those green eyes and unhealthy-looking skin. One would have said life had never crossed paths with Antonio Fernandez Carriedo.

He stood stunned at the entrance of the mansion for a while, unable to believe what had just happened, or better what had not happened at all. But suddenly his heart contracted, he took off his frock coat, letting it fall on the floor, and dashed upstairs.

There he was! After rushing into every room of the long corridor desperately searching for his precious _pequeño tomate_, Antontonio had finally found him. Romano was in the little room with pale blue wallpaper that had once belonged to his younger self. He had abandoned that room many years before, but innocent memories still rested under its dust.

"Romano! _Dios mio, estas bien Romano_! I was wo-" the emaciated Italian didn't seem to have noticed him, he sat on the floor, curled up in a way that made him look even more defenseless and small. The object of his interest seemed to be somewhere in the garden behind the large window, but even when Antonio interposed between said window and him Lovino didn't make a move. The elder nation knelt down to take the other's face between his hands and enthusiastic green eyes met empty hazel ones, tears and love had already dried out of them.

"Do not... touch me"

The effort that those words seemed to carry made Spain shudder, but he didn't withdraw his hands because the lips that had spoken were Romano's, his Romano, the one he had always known, the one that deep inside loved him. Or so he wanted to believe, because actually he couldn't recognize the face he was holding in his hands.

"_Non mi hai sentito bastardo? Lasciami stare!_" this time a violent shove followed words.

"R-Romano! What is wrong with you?"

"What is wrong with me? You are asking what the fuck is wrong with ME? You are the problem, you asshole! When in the hell will you stop smiling and pretending everything is always fucking perfect! Nothing is perfect! The shithole we live in is not perfect! We are not perfect! I... am not perfect. I hate this life! I hate life in general! And you ask me what the hell is wrong with me? Damn it! _Ti odio_!"

Lovino sprang to his feet while Antonio petrified on his knees, unable to move an inch or to even breathe.

"_Ciao_! I'm leaving! It's over..." said the young nation as he turned around to walk towards the door. But the loud thud he soon heard made him stop, Spain's fists had hit the wooden floor, trying not to lose balance on his knees. Lovino's heart cracked. However he angrily bit his lower lip and reached the door.

"_Has soñado alguna vez _

_que tienes alas blancas_?"

He twitched. The words Antonio had barely whispered made his blood run cold. Several years before, inside that small room, Spain had held him tight against his chest while singing that lullaby for him and their heart beats had melt together. Was that so far in the past? Were those heart beats so far from him now?

"_Vuelas alto sobre el mar_

_sonriendo el sol te canta. _

_Has soñado alguna vez_

_que tienes alas blancas_?"

Lovino tightened his grip over the door handle, he had to focus really hard on that smooth and cold surface to prevent himself from collapsing.

"_Sigue volando ,ven aca, bailemos con las nubes_. Have you ever dreamt of anything Romano?"

"Y-yes, I used to have dreams... but that was in the past"

"The past, such a big and frightening word Romano" Spain was apparently regaining his strenght, he had stood up from the ground and had gotten closer to the now shivering Italian.

"I was your past. I am your present. Let me prove you that I can be your dream for the future too. Let me awaken your dreams again Romano, please let's dream for one last time" saying so he reached for the hand Lovino was desperately trying to stick to the door knob and took it to his chest, right on his heart. Lovino's cheeks turned bright red, he was still his _pequeño tomate _after all.

"For one last time? And what.. what about tomorrow? What will happen when I'll wake up from the dream?"

"Tomorrow all of this will belong to the past. You'll be free to choose whether to continue dreaming or not. But please give me one last chance, just one last night. Consider this as the past, our past. The future is up to you... "

"You promise?"

"I promise. Just for tonight, dream Lovino"

The pair of juicy lips that had just spoken landed on Lovino's, who rapidly forgot to put up resistance. Their mouths desperately sought for each other, hungry for kisses, thirsty for love. They bit each other, they didn't want to let go, not that night. And soon came moans, fleeting words whispered uncosciously, gasps. It was the sound of love. It was their lullaby.

* * *

"Ve~ It's you big brother France! What are you doing here so late at night? Did something happ... Roses?"

"_Bonsoir Italie, oui roses_. Aren't they interesting? These beautiful flowers can be used both to declare one's love... and to decorate a loved one's grave."

"W-what are you saying? Fr-_Francia_ you are scary, I don't understand ve"

"_Mon petit ange_, you are about to die".

**o0o0o**

**Yeah, if you read or watch Kuroshitsuji that was definitely Claude Faustus in lines 1-4. Lol he does resemble to Roderich, they both like dressing kids in bizarre ways XD**

**Translations**

**Spanish**

**Pequeño tomate = Little tomato **

**Dios mio, estas bien Romano! = Oh my God, you are fine Romano! **

**Italian**

**Non mi hai sentito bastardo? Lasciami stare! = Didn't you hear me you bastard? Let go off me! **

**Ti odio = I hate you **

**Ciao = Good bye (Lovino just said 'Good bye', not 'Farewell' which would have been 'Addio')**

**French**

**Bonsoir Italie, oui roses = Good evening Italy, yes roses.**

**Mon petit ange = My little angel**

**The lullaby's translation**

**Have you ever dreamt**

**of having white wings?**

**You fly high above the sea**

**The sun smiles and sings to you.**

**Have you ever dreamt**

**of having white wings?**

**Keep on flying, come here**

**let's dance together with clouds. **


	3. Vulnerability

**Oh no! Yet another chapter! D: Exactly, enjoy it and please let me know if I wrote anything wrong. **

**Note: the quotes/words in italics are either memories, thoughts or stuff in other languages.  
**

**oOoOo**

_"Holy Roman Empire you know everything, right?"_

_"Uh... er... I read a lot of books. It doesn't mean I - "_

_"Holy Roman Empire what is Death?"_

_"D-death? Death is when life ends"_

_"Ve~ That's the answer books always give, but I want to know your answer Holy Roman Empire. What is Death?"_

_Deep blue eyes turned away from gleaming brown ones._

_"I suppose Death is when... it's when there's no more hope for the ones who love you, because they will never see you again, they will never hear you again... they will never tell you again that they love you. That is Death, I think"_

_" I-if that's so, then I want both of us to live. That way we will always be together. Right?"._

A light blue gloved hand stroked Veneziano's hair while the red rose that was held in the other hand caressed his earlobe, his cheek, his lower lip.

"His men won't stop this time _mon petit chou_ and no one will be here to stop them_, tu comprends_?"

"B-but Austria would never let them be bad ve~, I know he's strict b-but he wouldn't want to really hurt me, w-would he?... Would he Big Brother France?" the young country started shaking and crying despairingly, giving the older one an excuse to get even closer and wrap his arms around him. Italy didn't pull away, now he could feel the warmth of France's body, the warmth of the one he had always considered a brother, why refuse a brother's affection? No, he didn't refuse that hug, probably the last one he would ever get. "_Grazie fratellone_" he thought.

"_Je suis désolé, il a déjà pris sa décision_. The only one that might be interested in opposing him would be that Prussian I used to hang out with, but lately he disappeared. He's been taking care of his younger brother. You know? That boy looks a lot like..."

"Ve~ Like who?"

"No one actually, I was just talking nonsense _mon cher_. So, where were we? _Ah oui_, what I came here to say is that apparently I'm the only one who can protect you"

Veneziano lifted his head from France's chest to look at his eyes, trying to formulate an answer but his intentions were nonchalantly ignored by the blond man, who laid a hand on his head to gently press it back to his chest and sank his nose into his light brown hair.

"I'll be pleased to do so, _mon cher petit frère_" he took a glove off with his teeth and slid his hand down the brunette's trousers.

"Shhh, do not cry now _Italie_. I'm here to protect you".

* * *

"Dad! Dad! Is it him?"

"Stop it Heinrich. How many times do I have to tell you? Do not point your finger at people, it's impolite, even more if it's... him. I hope he won't disappoint us, you deserve a future son, don't you?"

The man grabbed his son's arm and dragged him away to let Roderich and his beautiful partner pass. A slight bow of the head and he disappeared into the crowd.

_Der Graben_* was particularly packed that afternoon, most of the high Viennese nobility was strolling alongside the luxurious boutiques.

From behind the shop windows, ladies admired the precious porcelains that came from mysterious places in Eastern Asia.

"_Celle ci est si merveilleuse, elle serait parfaite pour ma salle de thé. À propos, je dois absolument t'inviter chez moi, ma chère, est-ce que_…" French words flowed out of their lips accompanied by a slight German accent. Gentlemen gathered too, they chattered about the last wars that had taken place around Europe, the last horse-riding tournament they had attended or some morning musical party.

Roderich pressed his palm to his temple – _Hello headache, we meet again_ -. Was this really necessary? The Count of Lamberg and his overly powdered wife greeted him. Yes, it was necessary.

"Elizaveta won't you please slow down? We are supposed to be on our promenade together" he said to the green eyed woman that was walking in front of him while he politely greeted the Count and his wife back tilting his head.

"Elizaveta are you listening to me? Elizaveta Héderv-"

"Hey sweetheart look at that! Isn't that silk fan adorable? I think I'll buy it!" was the only answer he got from the Hungarian, whose attention seemed to be focused on the fan rather than on her husband.

"Eliz-"

"Oh and look at those!" she squealed. "Wouldn't our guests just love those tea cups?"

"Elizaveta stop ignoring me and hold my arm like decent couples do" he got closer and was about to grab her hand when, to his surprise, the young woman suddenly turned towards him and drew her arm back.

"Why would I do that?" she hissed. Roderich shivered and turned his head around to make sure no one had heard those words. Luckily the ladies where too caught up in the shop windows and the gentlemen in their jabber.

Those words had been spat out like venom, but the sudden change of Elizaveta's once cheerful expression was even more alarming. Ice and hatred was all that could be seen in those beautiful green eyes.

"_Meine Liebling_, will you behave? We are in public. Now please join me" and he lifted his forearm so that she could take hold of it.

"Why. Would. I. Do. That?"

_-__ Mein Gott__, she's so obstinate _– "It's for them, _meine Liebling_" tilting his head towards the crowd "We need to show them everything is all right, we represent them… they need peace"

"Peace? Since when are you caring about peace Roderich? I can't remember, were you caring about peace yesterday, when you ordered Italy's destruction? Is that peace to you? Tell me! I do not recognize you anymore Roderich, don't ask me to hold the hand of a stranger… and I don't care if some powdered lady here on _Der Graben_ won't be able to enjoy her precious afternoon because of my behaviour. I don't care Roderich!"

Heads were turning towards them, mouths whispered and Roderich's headache was killing him.

"Elizaveta please don't-"

"Next time… next time it will be me, right? Whose life will you want to destroy next time? How can I trust you Roderich?". Her eyes became watery, something had broken inside of her, something was lost, maybe forever.

Amethyst eyes stared at her unbelieving. Roderich parted his lips, but words didn't make it out of his throat. His headache had faded away, all he could feel was numbness, nothingness… Right there, in the middle of _Der Graben_, the crowded Viennese avenue, he was alone.

"I… I…"

"It's not necessary, do not pretend you got an answer. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going back home."

She got on a carriage and roughly shut the door behind her. The coach soon disappeared leaving Roderich petrified on the street.

Startled bystanders stared at him, he could feel all of their attention on him.

He didn't care.

"I love you Elizaveta".

* * *

"I love you. Please, please… open your eyes again. We'll play together, just like we did in the old times, remember? We used to roll on the grass together. We were happy… or at least that's what I thought.

I wish I could know why you decided to leave. I am sorry if I have done any mistakes, I can't change them, it's too late. But I'm here beside you now, we can start it all over again and I'll do anything for you. Anything!

I am your brother. Do you remember me? Please come back now, I have waited for so long. I'm tired. I need you… I need _mein Bruder_".

**oOoOo**

**Yep, Awesomeness is about to show up! Kesesese!**

**Reviews are awesome too by the way, not as much as Prussia of course, but they are very appreciated. Thanks a lot for reading and here are the translations you might be interested in:**

**_Mon petit chou= "My little cabbage". Lol don't take it literally, French actually use it as a term of endearment_**

**_Tu comprends_?= Do you understand? (French)**

**_Grazie fratellone_= Thank you big brother (Italian)**

**_Je suis désolé, il a déjà pris sa décision= I'm sorry, he has already taken his decision (French)_**

**_Mon cher= My dear (French)_**

**_Mon cher petit frère= My dear little brother (French)_**

**_Celle ci est si merveilleuse, elle serait parfaite pour ma salle de thé. À propos, je dois absolument t'inviter chez moi, ma chère, est-ce que_…_ = This one is beautiful, it would be perfect for my tea room. By the way, I absolutely need to invite you, my dear, is... (French)_**

**_Meine Liebling= My dear/sweetheart (German)_**

**_Mein Gott= Oh my God (German)_**

**_Mein Bruder= My brother (German)  
_**

* * *

*** Der Graben = Viennese street, also the city's most fashionable promenade during the 19th century.**


End file.
